


I Did it for Him

by chubbycheeksmcavoy



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Best Friends, IIHF World Championships, M/M, Sorta lovers?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 10:56:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10965804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chubbycheeksmcavoy/pseuds/chubbycheeksmcavoy
Summary: Pasta celebrates with Willy after Sweden's shootout win against Canada at the IIHF World Championship Game. However, the day is a little bittersweet with it being the four year anniversary of David's father's death.





	I Did it for Him

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if there are any mistakes, this was written immediately after the final IIHF World Championship game ended.

Willy wrapped his arms around Pasta, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He was sweaty and gross, still wearing half of his gear, but he couldn’t wait to see his boy. He couldn’t wait to see his Pasta. Pasta gently pressed a kiss to the cut that Willy had gotten under his eye.

“You did it!” Pasta said excitedly, his wide grin echoed on Willy’s face. “My little MVP.”

“I did,” he said with a smile, “I did it for you,” he whispered, looking Pasta in the eyes. “I know you’re upset that you didn’t get to play today, because of Russia. I get it,” he said softly, shaking his head. “You should have been out of that ice today, especially with what day it is.”

Pasta ducked his head, his heart hurting. It had been four years, and the anniversary of his father’s death hadn’t gotten any easier. It was one of the first times that he was not going to be able to visit his father’s grave on the anniversary but Willy had asked if he would come out to support him for the gold game against Canada, and Pasta couldn’t say no. It would help get his mind off of the fact that his biggest reason for playing hockey was no longer with him.

He felt like a disappointment. He was the reason the Bruins lost their game six, if only he hadn’t been so fucking clumsy. He shouldn’t have reached out to grab onto him as he was falling. He should have just let himself fall. He wouldn’t have been given a penalty, and he would have been out on the ice to help his team. But he had failed. Tuukka had tried to help him, tried to convince him that it wasn’t his fault, and that it all came down to Tuukka’s inability to stop the puck from going into the net, but Pasta wasn’t buying it. He didn’t want to let anyone else take the blame but himself. He also felt like he had let his home country down, not doing enough to help them win against the Russians.

“It’s been hard,” Pasta said quietly, tears in his eyes, “But getting to see you out on the ice made it a little bit better. Especially getting to see you win. It was a good game. An intense game. But a good game.”

Willy smiled and pressed a soft kiss to Pasta’s cheek. “We won for your Dad. I mean... We aren’t Czech, but I tried my hardest and I want to give my win to your Dad. He was watching over us, and he made sure we won. We’re who you went to play for first, after all.”

Pasta finally allowed the tears to stream down his face. He held Willy closer, burying his face in his neck. This was his best friend, the one person who helped him improve his Swedish and English, the man who helped him adapt to living away from home by himself at such a young age. He owed so much to Willy, and to hear him talking about his Dad that way, had his heart bursting.

Willy had helped him through the degrading of his father’s health, as well as the loss of him, and Pasta wasn’t quite sure where he would be without him. Willy had met his dad a couple of times, traveling back to the Czech Republic with Pasta on their days off to go and visit him in the hospital. He stood right beside him at his father’s funeral, a careful hand rested on his lower back. He held him when he cried through the burial, not caring that his tears were staining his suit. Willy had been there through so much of the hardest, and some of the best, parts of Pasta’s life, and he knew that he was going to continue to be there for him for the rest of his life.

Willy pulled back and took the medal from around his neck, putting it over Pasta’s head. “You were out there with me too. I did this for you, and for your dad. You deserve to wear this.” He smiled, looking at him with a wide grin, “It looks good on you, Pasta.”

Pasta looked down at the medal resting on his chest, right over his heart. He bit his lip, looking back up at Willy, “I don’t... I don’t deserve to wear this. Thank you, but no,” he shook his head and took it from around his neck and put it back around Willy’s. He pressed a kiss to his lips as he patted the medal on his chest. “I’m so glad that you’re the one who gets to wear this medal. You deserve it. If it couldn’t have been the Czechs, I’m glad it was the Swedes. Barely even 21, and here you are, doing amazing things.”

Willy shrugged and pressed another kiss to Pasta’s lips, not caring who saw, “Like I said, its because you’re by my side. I’m glad you could be here, Pasta.”

Pasta smiled, thinking to his Dad’s grave where he would normally be. And for the first time that day, he realized that he was exactly where he was supposed to be. His dad was always with him. He could go and visit him on his 21st birthday in a few days, but there was nowhere else on Earth he would rather be than right here in this celebratory moment with Willy.


End file.
